As soon as we got married, I realized I had relinquished ownership of my uterus because my mother-in-law prepared her house in the southern hemisphere for little ones running around that December, and my own mother immediately asked within days when I would get pregnant. I was 30 that year, and to my mom, I was old to not have a child. It was as though the clock was ticking, and every second that passed by, my eggs were slowly but surely being depleted one by one, and the mothers were watching. Their eyes were upon me…. me and my belly. And when it didn’t grow, I disappointed people. When I said yes to a glass of wine, my mother-in-law would be deflated (while my father-in-law rejoiced at “another drop”). When I ate raw fish and they heard about it, they were unhappy. All eyes were and are on the uterus.
On Monday when I talked to my mom, she asked how things were going, and I said I had a lot to do at work and was pretty busy. Then, when I talked to her again on Wednesday, she said, “You said you had a ‘lot to do.’ What did you mean by that? Are you pregnant?!” No, I AM NOT. She was not happy. “Well, you know you have the right to get pregnant, right? You’re married now!” Oh, really? I had no idea I had the “right,” nor did I remember I was married, but thanks for reminding me!
Today, I talked to her again as I was leaving work, and she pressed me about being pregnant… again. “Are you sure your belly isn’t growing?” It’s actually funny that she asked that because my entire core is sore this week because I’ve finally had four consecutive days of rigorous workouts for the first time since July due to my hamstring and back injuries. So if anything, it should not be “growing,” but it should be strengthened and tighter. So, no growing. She was not pleased.
These days, no “news” is good news to either mother unless a grandchild is on the way. This is the life I lead now. I am a constant disappointment.